I once thought that I spent ten years foolishly loving a woman, and in the end what I kept was her familiar back when we broke up. Such an experience should be thrown into the long river of memory, and it is definitely not worth mentioning again.
For a long time, I was less emotionally moved.
Seeing that my friends are either sweet or sad, or plain, I seem to be standing at the height of someone who has come over and examine my surroundings.
I have always firmly believed that I would not burn myself hotly, so I eagerly pretended to be mature, so I thought that maturity represented ridicule and infatuation. Then tell myself again and again that it is a story that belongs only to youth, a story that belongs only to first love, and even transforms the ending of that story into a beautiful one-I just want to let myself taste the pain again at a certain moment of memory , taste the trembling of the heart - because you know, the true ending always makes the whole story lose its beauty.
Just like you, I used to think that love was worth waiting for. I believed that true love is eternal. The spring breeze warms the green leaves, and the beach dries up in summer. Whenever the autumn rain drops in the shade of the roses, and whenever the winter snow floats in front of the window of the hut, that is all Miss her.
Just like you, I counted my sorrows in countless nights, put aside the slightest love for someone, and forgotten every romantic and painstaking management in the past. Whenever the sun rises again, the spring birds sing green and the stream is full of water, and whenever the lights come on, The neon reflects your forbearance of kindness, which is all the desire for true love again.
Yes, only faith is eternal, and only those who believe in love are worthy of love. The definition of true love can be that when Hua was old, the professor and his wife were still close to each other; the definition of true love can be that Xiaoba waited for a long time in front of the station until the end of his life.
Some people say that true love is in the unknown distance, we need to pack our bags and pursue from the morning dew to the sunset; some people say that true love is at the next stop of the train, we need to look up and wait for it to collide; yes, I am also like those Like a beloved child, sitting in a corner of the station, waiting for you to open the door and see your bitterly familiar figure.
Yet for the next ten years, I know you won't let me down.
One day, I, too, will be old-fashioned, shuffling my footsteps to the places we passed when we were young, recalling the time when we used to play in the summer, and when we used to step on the snow.
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